


heated gaze

by mysoulrunswithwolves



Series: flames on my skin [1]
Category: EXO (Band), SHINee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Idols, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Clubbing, Dancer Kim Jongin | Kai, M/M, The Author Regrets Everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 03:08:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17035430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysoulrunswithwolves/pseuds/mysoulrunswithwolves
Summary: Jongin goes to a club and gets more than he bargained for.





	heated gaze

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in two hours on my phone in bed at 1am
> 
> That's how important it was for me to get this out

It was hot.

The club was crowded, the dance floor thick with bodies, and Jongin was sweating in the mass of moving people as they danced away a summer night. It was his first time at a club in Busan, and he was loving it.

He knew this club was a good one, too, because earlier he had struck up a conversation with a few backup dancers for SM, who mentioned that this was their favorite in the city. He had danced with each of them several times since, a blur of memories that he might not remember in the morning.

He was a little too drunk on the feeling of multiple bodies moving against him to be fully aware of the music as it ebbed and flowed around him. It was liberating, the feeling of anonymity he was granted on the dance floor of a crowded club. He wasn’t anyone special, and maybe in another life he would have been one of the idols those backup dancers worked with, but he wasn't. He just loved to dance. 

A pair of hands settled tentatively on his hips, asking for permission Jongin willingly gave as he stepped back slightly against a warm chest, hips rolling with the beat.

Whoever was behind him was good. Their hands firm and steady against his hips, their bodies naturally moving together to the music. It must be one of the dancers, since Jongin hadn't danced with anyone else tonight whose movements were as effortless as theirs.

He turned slowly, matching to the music, and blinked in surprise. The man behind him was a fair bit shorter, dressed in tight black skinny jeans and a low cut black shirt, his hair a natural black and slightly overgrown, hanging in his eyes. That wasn't what surprised Jongin, though. It was the black mask over his mouth, obscuring most of his face except for his eyes, which were burning up at Jongin with a gaze so intense he couldn't look away, captivated.

"Hi, what's your name?" Jongin asked, moving closer and tilting his head down to talk in the stranger’s ear.

Nothing. No response whatsoever. If this was one of the backup dancers, he was a quiet one. The rest of them had been chatty, easily answering Jongin's questions about what it was like working for SM, how hard auditions were for the job, what he needed to do if he wanted to try and land a permanent gig with one of their artists. They had all been more than willing to talk to him, so this one's reticence was peculiar.

Maybe he wasn't one of the dancers. “Are you one of the dancers for SM?”

A nod. Okay, Jongin could work with that. He drifted for a moment, getting lost in the beat. The hands on his hips tightened, pulling him closer until the man had a thigh between his legs, their bodies much closer than strictly necessary, even through the crowded floor.

His eyes caught his partner's again, fire surging through him as he was pinned beneath the weight of his gaze. Tension rose between them, a simmering, cloying thing that made Jongin forget about everyone else in the room.

He stared back, getting lost in deep brown pools. The eyes were all he could see of his face, so Jongin found himself studying the shape of them, the way they narrowed to delicate looking points at the corners while still being wide and expressive, the soft roundness of them naturally alluring. The bridge of his nose was visible above the mask, giving Jongin a hint of what he might look like. His eyes were smoky, the outer edges dark with smudged liner, something that only added to the effect of the nagging feeling that began to prod at him.

There was something intensely familiar about those eyes. The more he studied them, the more certain he was that he'd seen them before.

It wasn't someone he knew; he would have recognized them sooner if it was. No, it was more like someone he knew in specific settings. It was right there, on the tip of his tongue…

He got distracted by the way their legs brushed as he drifted nearer, allowing his partner to coax him closer while he'd been studying him.

“Why are you so familiar?” Jongin hummed into his ear, purposely letting his nose brush against the shell of his ear as he spoke, feeling the cool metal of several piercings.

The hands on his hips tensed before immediately relaxing, and Jongin hid his satisfaction by running his own hands up his partner's arms before resting them on his shoulders. If the reaction to his question meant what he thought it might, he should know who this person is. But he kept drawing a blank. He had no idea who--

It clicked.

The dancers from SM, the familiarity, the _mask_.

Jongin fought to remain calm as he realized there was a good chance he was dancing with an idol.

His eyes found the man's again, and there was still intensity and passion and _heat_ in that gaze, but there was also the faintest hint of trepidation creeping in as well.

And Jongin...he didn't want that. He didn't want this dancer to be worried, or to have his night out ruined by the carelessness of a stranger. If he was an idol, Jongin decided right then he wasn't going to say anything.

“I don't care who you are,” Jongin assured, nosing at the hair behind his ear in a daring move he wouldn't normally try, except his partner's hands had been slowly creeping lower over the curve of his ass and, well, turnabout. “All I care about is that you keep dancing like that.” He nipped lightly at the tip of his ear, barely catching the gasp he made over the music. “Although a name would be nice.”

He moved with a sinuous grace Jongin didn't see from many people. In fact, the way his body moved was a lot like Taemin's.

His brain stuttered to a halt, body moving on autopilot.

No way.

But, Jongin knew who Lee Taemin was...most people in Korea did. He was outrageously famous, one of the most popular idols in the industry. Jongin loved to watch him dance, always captivated by the fluidity of his limbs as he moved with the music.

It would certainly explain why Jongin recognized the eyes.

Except.

Last he'd seen of Taemin had been his Japanese music video _Goodbye_...with bleached blond hair. He was wrong, he had to be.

He absently fingered the silky dark locks at the nape of this man's neck. It felt too soft to have recently undergone drastic changes.

He was so caught up in his musings that he failed to notice how far they had drifted while dancing until the change in lighting pulled him from his thoughts. He was being led off the floor now and down a half-hidden hallway off to the side of the club.

It was darker, harder to see, and anticipation began to burn inside as he was pressed against a wall.

Those eyes, deep pools of simmering desire, locked with his, and he nodded his permission to the question they asked.

As fast as a blink, the mask was yanked down away from his mouth and Jongin was pulled down by the back of his neck, his lips crashing against the man's. He tried to replay the split second he'd seen his face, but it was too dark and too quick, and he was far too busy learning the shape of his mouth against Jongin's, the feel and taste of his tongue as he licked hungrily between Jongin's lips.

The kiss lit him on _fire._ It was desperate and needy, situational passion amplified by the heat of the room, the weather, their bodies pressed closely together. He never wanted it to end, the sheer perfection of it enough to make him crave much more time to memorize the feeling of his lips.

Jongin fisted his hands in the thick locks of hair at the back of his head, coaxing a low moan from the man as he pressed kisses down what skin he could over his still-covered jaw until he got to the exposed skin of his neck, slowing down his pace and taking his time.

“No marks,” a voice whispered breathy and low in his ear, and Jongin made an equally low sound in understanding.

Whoever he was, he had to be an idol. Maybe it was Baekhyun, or more likely, he was over thinking it and it was just someone who didn't want to have visible reminders of a drunken night out.

He groaned as hips ground into his. Neither of them was hard, but it still felt good, and if they continued he would quickly get there.

Soft lips gently sucked at the skin below his ear, and he muffled his low moan into the man's shoulder.

“I have to go, thank you.” A hand slipped into the back pocket of his jeans, squeezing his ass once as a fleeting kiss was pressed against his cheek. By the time Jongin managed to blink his eyes open and see past the haze of desire, he was gone.

Jongin leaned against the wall, willing his breathing to slow, and wondered what, exactly, had just happened.  


  
Two weeks later, Jongin happened to be wasting time on YouTube instead of studying and a video popped up in his recommended to watch.

It was Taemin's new song, but a live stage. It had aired yesterday. With hands that shook slightly, Jongin pressed play, and his heart stopped in his chest.

Taemin's hair was pitch black, definitely not the bleach blond it had been in the music video a month ago, and shaggy in his eyes. Jongin didn't remember anything that happened during the performance, his mind stuck on the hot, steady gaze staring at him from behind the screen.

The same one from the club.

"Holy shit."

**Author's Note:**

> Oodles of thanks to Han for staying up to edit behind me as I wrote and for fixing all my typos.
> 
> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/_xKikix)


End file.
